Weaver of Webs
by calemra
Summary: The story of the spidren Zihna is one of pride, punishment, and transformation, and it all started with a bit of magic...
1. Prologue

**Weaver of Webs**

Author's Note: In my opinion, this is quite an odd story. I have not finished writing it, but I find the idea to be… um… unique. It is based loosely (_very_ loosely) on the Greek myth of Arachne, but you don't have to know the myth to understand this story. The first chapter is short, but more will be coming soon. I hope you enjoy my experiment.

Disclaimer: Tortall and any of Tammy's characters belong to her (although I would love to have them). Characters you don't recognize, along with the plot, belong to me.

**Prologue**

Sweat poured down the face of a short, tawny haired mage in the City of the Gods. His long, black robe was inappropriate for the humid summer day, but his pride convinced him to leave it on. For weeks he had been studying books upon books until the words were floating in his head, trying to find a way to fulfill his thirst for power. Immortality was his greatest dream and he had finally discovered something that could help.

In front of the mage was a think book with yellowed pages and a tattered spine showing long years of use. The words were faded and bunched tightly on the large pages, and although they were gibberish to most people, they made perfect sense to him. They spoke of words of power, especially the kind that changed the physical essence of a person. Even though none of the words directly addressed his needs, the mage in all his arrogance felt certain he could twist them to fit his purposes. Surely as a black robe mage he could take the body of a human and change it to that of a god.

Finally, after long preparation, the mage decided it was time to try his luck. With thin, wrinkled fingers he shut the book and cleared the table of spare papers. He moved with quick movements to the door of the workroom, locking it with both key and magic. Standing in the middle of the small, crowded room, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He closed his eyes for concentration, and spoke clearly the word of power he had created.

The mage felt a jolt in his stomach as the room around him began to shift. At first he thought the walls were shrinking, but as the bookcases were pressed up against his back he realized the truth: he had grown. He opened his eyes again to see what had happened and found himself standing shakily on hairy black legs. Eight of them.

The Tortallan mage Cadic had changed himself into a spidren.

* * *

At that same moment in the forests outside Corus, a female spidren had situated herself at the top of a large tree. Her human head had lively green eyes framed by short, white-blonde hair. The perch she had chosen overlooked a path that exited the city and led east, and was frequented by travelers. She smiled to herself as she contemplated the brilliance of her plan, for like all spidrens she loved the warm taste of human flesh.

In seconds her vision went blurry and she lost her grip on the branch, sending her tumbling to the hard ground below. She landed hard on her back, and even as she felt herself slipping into darkness she remembered wondering why she was now covered in soft, pink flesh. The spidren-turned-human would not be discovered until that night, when two villagers returning to their homes were traveling that same path.


	2. Human

**Chapter 1: Human**

When Zihna's eyes finally reopened, she found herself laying on a bed and staring upwards at a low, wooden ceiling. Its boards were old and warped, but they stood solidly. Her eyes were strained to see much else in the inky darkness of night, which surprised her for her night vision had always been perfect before. Her next surprise came when she tried to stand. Suddenly she found herself trying to balance on two legs instead of eight. Unable to balance on only two legs, she toppled over, landing face-first on a hard, wooden floor. Pressed to pale, human flesh, the boards were pleasantly warm, having retained the sun's summer heat soaked from the daylight. Pushing herself to her feet with concentrated effort, Zihna staggered in the darkness before running into a wall with a resounding thud. She gripped for anything that would help her stand and her hands caught hold on the rough edge of a windowsill.

She sighed as the breezes ruffled her thin wisps of hair, throwing them back into her face and eyes. Her head pounded from where it had struck the floor, but she ignored the pain from habit. Human eyes strained to see out through the window, making out only shadows and different shades of black. The sky was mostly clouded, for there were not even stars to light the ground below. In the distance, Zihna could make out the sounds of waves crashing against the rocks, whispering the story of blue-grey waters and laughing dolphins. She turned from the window and prepared herself to brave the void between the wall and the bed, where she had nothing to aid her balance. Her clumsy stride was improving, and she managed to find the safety of the bed without falling. Rolling over onto her back, the plush sheets forming to her figure, she momentarily accepted defeat, that she was imprisoned in such a weak, vulnerable body.

Slipping back into her thoughts, Zihna imagined herself once more as a spidren, falling back into her black and orange mottled coat. She could no longer rely on sticky webbing to contain her enemies, nor could she move swiftly, with eight strong, slender legs to support herself. For the first time in her life she felt small and utterly defenseless. She turned over onto one side, unable to situate herself comfortably and unaccustomed to sleeping in a bed at all. The warm, thick air blanketed her with smothering weight, and she regretted sleeping inside, away from cool, refreshing breezes that would be playing among the trees. _Surely,_ she assured herself, _this change would not be permanent. _She felt confident that by the morning she would wake up as her former self, that she would discover her transformation had simply been some kind of nightmare.

Unable to fall asleep, she found herself pondering the unthinkable: what if she really was stuck as a human. Zihna paused, taking into account the body she would theoretically be trapped in. As far as she could tell in the darkness and without a mirror, her head and face had remained unchanged. Her new body was that of a woman in her mid twenties, with a tall, willowy frame that Zihna could only describe as weak. She was disappointed at the frailty of her new form, and regretted having taken the muscle-tone and strength of her spidren body for granted. Deeply concerned at the possibility of truly being turned into a creature she had always considered her prey and enemy, Zihna failed to notice as through the window the sun crept into the sky, tinting it shades of blue and pink. The soft creaking of hinges whispered in her ears, calling her thoughts fully back to her present situation. She hastened to an upright position in the bed, the spidren instincts throwing her into alertness.

In the doorway, illuminated feebly by the dawn, the figure of a man stood staring in at her. Zihna watched as the shadows flickered, playing across his cheeks, hiding his face. She took careful note of broad shoulders and muscular arms, the outline of his body plastered against a pale sky. In three smooth strides the strange man covered the distance spanning the doorway and the bed, coming to a stop beside her.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his soft voice tickling her ears. Zihna didn't answer. She was unaccustomed to having anyone, much less a human, ask about her condition.

"You were pretty beat up when we found you. Our healer saw to most of your larger wounds, broken bones, internal bleeding and such."

It was then that Zihna remembered the tall tree, and the fall. "I'm fine. Thank you." The last words felt strange on her tongue. She could not remember a time when she had given her thanks, and her mouth shaped the words insincerely, without feelings.

The sun had continued to rise, adding yellows and oranges to a sea of pink. The gathering light washed over the land and flooded in the doorway, further brightening the room. It contrasted against the midnight hair of the man and gave a glowing sheen to his well tanned skin. He nodded absently, obviously distracted from his charge.

"Good. What's your name?" he asked.

"Zihna," she replied. Speaking to this human was becoming easier with each word. With hard realization she remembered how the humans claimed some fief or city as their home. "Zihna of… of…" she struggled to formulate some lie, but it was little use. She didn't even know where she was now.

"It doesn't matter," the human voice interrupted her uncertain mumblings. "You must have hit your head. I'm sure it will come to you soon. Until then, welcome to Fief Penhagen. We're about two hours ride northwest from Corus, on the Tortallan coast. Oh, and by the way, my name is Corbin."

Zihna's thoughts raced. _Penhagen._ She knew the name. She had seen the fief from a distance, but had never ventured near. It was formed by a small, poor castle on a cliff overlooking the sea and the fishing villages that surrounded it. Through the window she saw other small houses similar to the one she had awoken in. From her surroundings she surmised that she was sheltering in one of the smaller villages.

When she kept her silence, the man known as Corbin spoke again. "It's probably best if you rest now. You need to regain your strength after whatever happened to you." Without waiting for a response he turned his back and walked back through the door, his long steps carrying him swiftly into the village, where conversing commoners were mingling. Zihna watched him go, watched as he disappeared among a sea of faces. She had never understood how humans could stand to live in such close quarters to one another. She enjoyed the life of a spidren and was not looking forward to putting up with humans, the disgusting, weak creatures that they were.

But the more she thought about her situation, the more she was convinced that she would have to live in Fief Penhagen. She had few other choices, at least until she figured out why she had mysteriously transformed and what she could do to change back. This plan left her with even more problems, for to live with the humans she would have to act like a human. If she let it be known that she was a spidren she could expect nothing but death. Death or disbelief, for even she did not fully believe that she was a human. She wanted anything but to be human. Humans were far too complex creatures in their social lives, with deep, silly emotions that weakened them. But then again, everything about humans was weak!


End file.
